


the glitter is actually bullshit, it's mostly just luck

by orphan_account



Series: Glitter, but, like, not like Twilight [1]
Category: Polygon/McElroy Vlogs & Podcasts RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Alternate Universe - Journalism, Alternate Universe - Wizards, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Magic, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-09 21:31:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18925384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The first rule of magic is to not tell anyone, for humanity has enough stupidity that it could use magic to destroy itself in a day.Too bad Brian has been trying to prove magic is real, has been since high school. Pat’s playing a real dangerous game, but he only regrets it a little.





	the glitter is actually bullshit, it's mostly just luck

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in about three hours and it may or may not be continued after I finish boat cops. Who knows? 
> 
> This is not edited at all and is probably kind of shit, but that's what this fic is for. It's for me taking a break from the eternal struggle that is boat murder and chilling with some dumbass gays for a bit.

The first thing Pat ever did with his wand was make one of his mom’s prize tomatoes explode, and that really says a lot about what he does with his magic. 

 

-

 

“I think I found magic,” Brian says one evening as they’re curled up on Pat’s couch pretending to watch a movie.  _ Harry Potter _ , funnily enough, because Pat hasn’t seen it for obvious reasons (namely: he grew up with magic in his life and the shit from the movies pales in comparison). 

 

The first rule of magic is to not tell anyone, for humanity has enough stupidity that it could use magic to destroy itself in a day. The second rule is that wands must be hidden, the third that magic is to only be used in the privacy of your own home, and, if you have non-magical roommates or family living with you, you save it for your bedroom late at night when no one would be watching. 

 

“Oh?” he asks, stiffening just the slightest amount, his hand tightening around Brian’s shoulder. He frantically tries to recall the mindwipe spell his mom taught him, just in case. He really doesn’t want the wizard cops knocking his door down on date night. 

 

“Yeah!” Brian grins, not noticing anything out of the ordinary. Which can be said for most of their experiences, really, Brian ignoring obvious magic and instead focusing on modern-day technological miracles. Pat has half a mind to cast the spell already. “I was at the library, and, right in front of me, this old woman levitated a book down from the top shelf.”

 

“Oh,” Pat says. His wand’s out of reach, hidden behind a pillow on the opposite side of the couch. Technically it’s supposed to be on his person at all times, but he also really doesn’t want his secret to come out by accidentally poking Brian with a wooden stick after only an hour. He could reach for it right now and nip this in the bud before anyone finds out, but Brian’s got him pinned between him and the armrest with no sign of letting him go.

 

“Crazy, right?” Brian asks, and Pat forces a smile on his face. 

 

“Totally crazy,” he says, and his fake smile slowly turns real as Brian continues explaining, and then as he goes on to talk about his cat’s weird carpet fetish. 

 

It’s not worth the hassle, Pat decides. The wizard cops will already have found the woman already, and if Brian wanted to go out and look for her again, Pat could just wipe his memory and they could go on with their lives. Besides, it’s not like it’ll happen again. 

 

-

 

Pat owns a small bookshop in the shittier part of the city. It’s not a good shop. It barely operates these days, fueled mostly off his most loyal patrons and the small amount of money he gets from the wizards who come to him for his other goods, the ones he keeps in the basement that Brian is absolutely never allowed in. It’s where he first met Brian all those months ago. He came in looking for a book on Houdini, Pat was smitten immediately, and that was that.

 

Brian has a key these days, mostly because he’s the only other person in there half the time, and Pat trusts him not to steal his books. Sometimes. Depending on what project Brian’s working on. Because Brian is an investigative journalist who “dabbles in parapsychology and cryptozoology”. Because Brian has been trying to prove magic is real, has been since high school, and Pat’s playing a real dangerous game. Normally it isn’t a problem. Brian usually only lets himself in when Pat’s working out of courtesy. It’s sweet, Brian’s sweet. 

 

The basement is home to so many magical tomes that Pat gets a headache every time he goes down there. They’re too loud, too full. Too powerful. Having one of them fall into the wrong hands would mean the end of the world. 

 

Okay, maybe they’re a bit illegal. But it’s not like any of the official magical bookstores in the city sell anything for less than two dragon teeth and half a soul. He’s cutting his customers a bargain, really. 

 

Brian’s been trying to get into the basement for too long to be just normal, human curiosity. It’s moved on to something else, something dangerous. Because Pat loves Brian to the moon and back, but he would turn Brian into a garbage can before he let him into the basement. Out of concern for his safety, of course, and for the safety of the entire world. 

 

There’s a spark of magic in Brian’s eyes. Pat knows it, he recognizes it, he’s absolutely terrified of it. Because Brian David Gilbert is chaotic enough on his own. Give him otherworldly powers, and the world would be in rubble within days. Or maybe he wouldn’t do anything weird or insane because he’s a smart, gentle, adorable, sweet, caring soul who would rather throw himself into the sea than mess up one of his articles. And that level of perfectionism is perfect for magic. It’s how Pat’s dad always worked. Never used magic unless it was to clean the house. Pat’s on the other side of the spectrum, with his ‘just have fun and don’t get caught’ mentality. He freely goes between his familiar form and his human form whenever no one’s watching. And it would be fun to do magic with Brian, to not have to keep it hidden. But that’s for the wizard cops to clear, and God knows they won’t get to his letter before the end of the century.

 

-

 

Pat’s ear twitches as he hears the key enter the lock, and he has just enough time to think  _ ‘Oh dear God, no’  _ before Brian’s in and sneaking past Pat’s office and into the store itself. Pat sighs and readjusts himself, curling back up in a tighter ball and settling his head on his feet, content with the fact that his boyfriend is a common criminal and that the worst he’s going to do is steal a few books and return them in a few days with a not-so-guilty look on his face and a bouquet of daisies in hand. But then he hears the basement door click open, and he’s up and running out of his office and towards the basement. 

 

“What the- cat!?” Brian screeches, jumping back as Pat hisses and sticks his head into the doorway, sniffs, and backs away. He hisses again for good measure before nudging the half-open door closed and sitting in front of it, glaring. 

 

Brian nervously smiles and pockets his keyring, backing away slowly. 

 

“Good kitty,” he coos, and the cat part of Pat’s brain is telling him to immediately flop down and let this human pet him forever. But, like, fuck that. He lets a low growl settle in his throat, narrowing his eyes, the fur on his back raising. 

 

With that, Brian’s out the back door and Pat’s coughing up a furball. He sneezes himself back into his regular form, wiping his mouth with a grimace. He didn’t give Brian that key, what the fuck? Brian was sneaking, what the fuck?

 

He stretches and stands, stretches again, and heads to the front to flip the sign to  _ ‘Open’ _ . And, as always, the first customer is his boyfriend, who comes in ten minutes later looking ‘suspiciously’ out of breath. 

 

-

 

So the cat was an accident at first. He was supposed to be an owl like his father, or a raven like his mother. But the cat happened, and it fit, and he rather likes it. It’s nice to be small, to be able to just close the shop and hide from the world for a few hours and nap in a ray of sun. He would kill to be able to nap in Brian’s lap sometime, but that’s out of the question. Because who would that small cat be? Where would Pat be while Brian was petting a small, strange cat? 

 

Sometimes he’s more cat than person, usually on days where he’s too tired or too sick to function. And, even when he’s just fine, he curls up when he sleeps, he eats more fish than is probably healthy, he  _ melts  _ when Brian plays with his hair just right. He could go outside into the park as himself and sleep for hours. His college girlfriend took up knitting and it took an absurd amount of self-control to keep him from stealing all of her yarn and hiding it under his mattress. 

 

Maybe he’ll just get a cat and project. Because that’s healthy.

 

-

 

"Pat, I think I found more magic today."

 

"Oh?"

 

"There was this dude in the park today who turned into a cat? Maybe a raccoon? I dunno. It was too far away to tell, but  _ Patrick! _ "

 

"What kind of cat looks like a raccoon? This dude must suck. God, wow, what a shitty wizard."

 

Brian snorts and takes another bite of his fruit salad. “Be nice. I’m sure the wizard was trying his best.”

 

Pat knows, for a fact, that the wizard was not trying his best. That that’s what his cat form naturally looks like. That all he wanted was a nap, goddamnit, and it didn’t look like there was anyone else in the park. But he can’t say any of that. 

 

So, instead, he says, “Bullshit. Mister Wizard should’ve tried harder. Cats are very different from raccoons, you know.”

 

He stabs his fork down into his pineapple with a bit more force than necessary because  _ fuck _ . He was trying to be secret about it. He was in a tree, for God’s sake, no one should’ve seen anything. Least of all Brian, who has walked into a glass door before thinking it was thin air. 

 

Brian raises an eyebrow. “You good?”

 

“Peachy,” Pat grumbles. “Look, Brian, I’m behind you a hundred percent on this. But are you sure you weren’t seeing things?”

 

Brian immediately shakes his head. “It was  _ real _ , Pat! I know it!”

 

Pat’s wand sits heavily in his boot, the memory wipe spell on the tip of his tongue, waiting to be released. Just a flick of his wrist and a couple of words, and this would all be taken care of and they could finish dinner and go make out for the rest of the night. He should do that. And he will after dessert. Absolutely will. 

 

He lets out a long sigh and drops his hand off the table, letting it hang by his boot. Just in case. 

 

“Just...don’t go shouting it around or anything, okay?”

 

Brian rolls his eyes and smiles. “Why? You know that horrible wizard?”

 

He takes just a bit too long to respond, and he does not miss the way Brian’s look shifts. Fuck. He should cast the spell already, save the trouble. 

 

“I just don’t want you being laughed at, that’s all.”

 

“As if I’d be laughed at for discovering a real-life wizard, Patrick. Do you know how big that would be?”

 

_ ‘Yes,’  _ he thinks. 

 

“It’d be huge,” he says. “Just wait until you have more, okay?”

 

“Oh, I’ll have more,” Brian says. His smile turns sharp, and Pat reminds himself to absolutely cast the spell and take away the key to the basement. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it, dear.”

 

And Pat, of course, doesn’t cast the spell, and, of course, he steals back the key, and, of course, he worries.

 

-

 

Pat uses his magic whenever Brian isn’t home, which is increasingly rare. He and his cat have practically moved in at this point, which is maybe going to be a problem. Maybe. Hopefully not. If all else fails, he’s got the spell. Though he isn’t sure if it works on cats. 

 

Before Brian, he used to use his magic for everything. He used it to do his dishes, to do the laundry, to do the cleaning. Because he is lazy, after all, and what good was magic to a 20-something-year-old bachelor who had more important things to do? 

 

He still uses it to clean the bookshop. And to work on new tomes when his hand starts cramping. And to change the locks on the basement. Among other important things like turning into a cat for a midday nap and making sure all the spiders hiding around are well-fed. 

 

-

 

Brian bursting into the shop during Pat’s normal lunch hour is normal. It’s adorable, in fact, and it’s usually the highlight of Pat’s day other than cat time. So Pat smiles and waves, and Brian blows him a quick kiss before rushing into the back and careening into Pat’s office. 

 

Pat blinks a few times and stands, going to see what the actual fuck he’s doing back there. 

 

What the actual fuck he’s doing back there is looking under Pat’s desk making his Zuko-calling noises, weird chittery things that get Pat’s spine tingling in a way he really should’ve been expecting. 

 

“Brian?” he asks, stepping into the office and closing the door behind him. It locks itself, and Brian sits up with a start, slamming the back of his head against the bottom of the desk. 

 

He hisses and presses a hand to the impact point. He sits up and weakly smiles at Pat. 

 

“Hey, babe!” he chipperly says. “What’re you doing here?”

 

“I work here,” Pat says, leaning back against the door. His wand’s in his belt today. Way easier to reach. “What are you doing here?”

 

“You know, searching,” Brian lamely says. 

 

“For what?”

 

Brian nervously laughs, drumming his fingers against the top of the desk. “You, uh, I came in the other week. On your sick day. And there was this cat?”

 

Ah, of course, Pat’s hubris. 

 

He smiles. “You really think I’d keep a cat from you? Ouch.”

 

“No, Pat, I’m being serious. It looked just like the one at the park, and-”

 

“I thought you couldn’t see the one at the park.”

 

“I...shut up. And it had, like...people eyes? I guess?”

 

Pat shoves his hands in his pockets, laughing a little and shaking his head. He took a single acting class in college, and he’s spent the last twenty years of his life hiding this. He can do this, even with Brian’s adorable puppy eyes and extremely convincing voice and- wait, shit, that’s his Cat Voice. The one saved specifically for Zuko. And that look in his eyes, that’s his journalism-ing look. He’s only seen it once before back when Pat stole one of his blankets after their first night together months ago. 

 

He knows. Maybe. Hopefully not. Pat does not want to deal with this. Not now, not ever, especially not on a fucking Wednesday. 

 

“Was it when you were trying to break into the basement?” he asks, and Brian’s entire nervous presentation drops. Little brat was playing him the whole time, goddamnit. Pat’s losing his touch. He’s too soft for him. He should cast that spell this exact moment. 

 

Brian rests his arms on the desk and drops his chin onto them, beaming as widely as possible. 

  
  
“I knew it,” he smugly says. “Mister wizard.”

 

Pat sighs and leans his head back against the door, closing his eyes. 

 

“Wizards aren’t-”

 

“You are literally a wizard, Patrick Gill, don’t you dare try and tell me otherwise.”

 

“Brian…”

 

“You keep a literal wand under your pillow! How was I not going to find out?”

 

“Brian,  _ please _ .”

 

“Oh, no, Pat, you’re not getting out of this one.”

 

There are footsteps, and then Pat’s being pulled into a tight hug. He grunts and opens his eyes, adjusts so that his arms aren’t pinned. He can’t help but softly smile and put his arms around Brian as well, only realizing his mistake when Brian snaps away, brandishing Pat’s wand like it’s a toy. Pat snatches it out his his hand and tucks it into the back of his waistband. 

 

“What’s that look for?” Brian asks, seemingly oblivious to the actual, literal danger he’s put himself in. 

 

“I didn’t tell you for a reason,” Pat huffs. He runs a hand through his hair and leans back against the door. “The first rule is literally to not tell anyone.”

 

“Technically, you didn’t tell me.”

 

“Yeah, but, technically, you still found out, and both of us could be sent to wizard jail.”

 

Brian’s eyes light up. “Wizard jail?”

 

Pat shakes his head as sternly he can manage when Brian’s looking that damn happy. “I’d be sent to wizard jail. You would get your entire memory of me erased and would be dropped off in, like, Finland with a new identity.”

 

Brian’s face falls, and Pat feels the extreme need to pull him into a hug. Which he does, of course, making sure Brian’s hands are far away from his wand. 

 

“You’re not going to…”

 

“Of course not,” Pat swears, his very soul screaming in agony at the thought of Brian being in Finland, far, far away from where wizard jail is supposed to be. “I love you. But, babe, I can’t let you remember.”

 

“I mean, you could.”

 

“I could.”

 

“I could just...never tell anyone. If you don’t believe me, just, I dunno, do some spell that’ll keep me from talking about it.”

 

Pat sighs and shakes his head. “I don’t-”

 

“I saw something like that downstairs.”

 

Pat groans and buries his face in Brian’s hair. “ _ Brian _ , you weren’t supposed to be  _ down there _ .”

 

“Oops?”

 

He can feel Brian’s laughter, and he only hates it a little. Hates it purely because he knows that Brian’s been down there. That Brian could actually read it. That Brian really does have magic in him because he didn’t go crazy or anything (debatable). That the wizard cops are going to be knocking his door down as soon as they find out that not only does he have a forbidden magic bookshop in his basement, not only does he have a human who knows about said forbidden magic bookshop, not only does said human know about  _ him _ , but he won’t erase said human’s memories of him and the bookshop and everything. Because he loves him. And he isn’t going to use the spell no matter what. 

 

He feels Brian’s hand go for his wand again, and Pat lightly pushes him away, rolling his eyes at Brian’s playful grin. 

 

“Rule one,” he says, feeling a smile grow on his own face. “No touching the wand.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have nothing to promote so uhhhh read boat cops if you haven't? or check out the rest of my stuff? or just take a break and chill, man, you deserve a you day.


End file.
